The Hamiltons' absurd behaviour on Louis Theroux's documentary last night is a reminder of the sort of couple they are, writes David Hencke, Guardian journalist who led the paper's investigation into the cash-for-questions affair.

David Hencke
Wednesday December 12, 2001
The Guardian

If there is any national award going for the most ludricous couple in Britain Neil and Christine Hamilton deserve to win it after their performance last night.

Their appearance with Louis Theroux brought back memories of the mad, zany world of the Hamiltons during the "cash for questions" saga . It also chilled the spine by reminding me that underneath the bon mots are two thoroughly amoral nasty pieces of work.

It is hard to remember that once Neil was an up-and-coming minister, not a rent-a-minute court jester for the TV cameras. Christine was an influential Commons secretary - not a bit-part actress trying to badly portray Mrs Robinson in The Graduate.

The decline and decline of the Hamiltons could not be more aptly chronicled. The pair always had a penchant for the high life - as long as someone else paid the bill - and were finally caught out when they decided that Mohammed Al Fayed could be their new fairy godmother.

When they failed to deliver they found that Mr Fayed - unlike the makers of that nasty chewing tobacco Skol Bandits, or even their long-standing friend Ian Greer - demanded value for money.

No longer could they wallow in champagne and caviar on false promises. Mr Fayed demanded his pound of flesh and got his revenge. Louis' film showed how low they have fallen - with the extraordinary statement outside Barkingside magistrates court detailing what they insisted were false rape allegations against both of them. Who else in the world would wish to hold a press conference about that? Most people would want to hide under the nearest stone.

Throughout the whole film you can see that the pair had become hopeless media addicts - almost as though their life had become meaningless unless a camera was recording every move.

They even offered the hapless viewer voyeuristic glimpses of Neil changing his shirt, cavorting around in his underpants and Christine stroking Louis' knee as well as ambushing him with a kiss in the bathroom.

Probably the most interesting walk-on part on the film was their friend Jonathan - the so-called journalist now returning to his true vocation as a lorry driver.

His "friend and media adviser" is the same person who created a website documenting the Guardian's role in the "cash for questions" affair that is so mad that it is not even worth talking to libel lawyers to gain redress.

Only he could suggest that that a horrendous rape allegation could be turned to the pair's advantage to clear Neil's name over caseloads of used notes from Harrods.

For all the zaniness and absurd carry on shown by the Hamiltons, perhaps the best we can hope from this film is that they will quietly be left alone now - as they have exhausted all entertainment value.